The Dangerous Lives of Psychics
by Emilee Crumby
Summary: Shawn and Gus investigate at a convent while Shawn battles with a terrible cold. sick!Shawn
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this is my absolute, number one, favorite show on TV. I took so long to write a fic because I've agonized over whether I could do it justice. Decided I couldn't but went forward anyway.

Note: I have never written anything like a script before. The only script I've ever read was one belonging a friend in the high school play. Likely this is all wrong. Forgive me, please.

Disclaimer: Despite the shameless plug for this show I am in no way affiliated. I simply donate this story to the any interested audience, feel free to re-post, cut, copy, steal, etc. I claim nothing.

**PSYCH **

_Completely dark room. Nothing visible except a thin ray of light coming from a small window near the room's ceiling. The camera moves from the window, following the path of light until a bound and blindfolded man is shown. All other speaking is done in whispers ,faceless interrogator no distinguishable gender._

Kidnapper: Who is your contact?

(No answer)

Kidnapper: Your silence gains you nothing, Finelli. You're just going to stay here until you talk. I need that name.

(No answer)

Kidnapper: Fine, then stay here until you're willing to talk. I'll come back tomorrow, or perhaps the next day. Maybe that will loosen your tongue.

_Sound of duct tape being ripped and a strangled cry is cut off as camera moves off Finelli's face. View moves into dark hallway. There is the sound of a door opening and a vague outline of a figure locks the door. The figure moves swiftly down the hall and choir music is heard, gradually becoming louder. The figure steps up into a sanctuary and her face become visible. She is a nun and paces across the hall to join the rest the singers, also nuns, holding her hymnal and smiling piously._

**threeholepunch**

Shawn Spencer (holding his hands to his temples): I'm seeing Santa Monica. Three two one zero, zero to hybrid theory. Hybrid Theory?… Linkin' Park. "don't know how I got this way, I know it's not alright so I'm breaking the… hmmm hmmm"

Juliet: Habit? (Shawn glances up)

Shawn: Linkin' Park, really Jules? (Inhales, sharp breath). But yes, habits. And polar bears no… reindeer no…penguins. Penguins! (sneezes)

Vick: Colds? Somewhere cold?

Gus: I think that was just a sneeze.

Shawn: Penguins, habits, a piece of toast selling on EBay for 28 thousand dollars. (sneezes again)

Juliet: Bless you.

Shawn: (jerking his head up and pointing at her.) Yes! Blessings. That's it Jules, you've got it!

Lassiter: (snaps his fingers) The Santa Barbara Convent.

Juliet: Penguins? Shawn isn't that a little disrespectful?

Shawn: I can't control it, Juliet. Unfortunately the spirits aren't are politically correct as one might like. I do what I can. (sneezes).

Vick: God bless you. Mr. Spencer, are you feeling alright?

Shawn: I'm fine, Chief. It's the spectral energy. It's just trying to escape, through my nose of course.

Lassiter: It's got a wide enough exit.

Shawn: Ouch Lassie. Just, ouch. (sniffles and wipes his nose across his sleeve. Juliet discretely hands him a tissue and he looks grateful.)

Lassiter: So what about the convent?

Shawn: Come on Lassie, do I have to do all the work myself? (Holds hands to temples.) Umm… nope, that's all I've got. The spirits think that there's information to be found at the convent. Also that your tie is spiffy.

Vick: Well that's good enough for me. Mr. Spencer, would you and Mr. Guster be willing to assist on this case?

Shawn: As long as we're home in time for the John Hughes marathon tonight.

Vick: What?

Gus: What he means, Chief, is that we'd be happy to help in any way we can.

Vick: Good. Then follow behind us on the way to the Convent. And Mr. Spencer (he looks up from blowing his nose) let's keep the penguin jokes to a minimum.

Shawn: I'll submit your request to the spirits, Chief.

_Group exits. Gus lingers behind to talk to Shawn in whispers. They walk towards the Blueberry while talking._

Gus: Are you really going to do this?

Shawn: Do what?

Gus: Act like you're not sick.

Shawn: Acting is one of my many talents, Gus. A constant visage is important to being a good lesbian.

Gus: Don't you mean thespian?

Shawn: Yeah, like that's a word.

Gus: You do this every time. You get a simple cold and pretend you're okay, then you wear yourself out until you get really sick and end up Robo-tripping on my couch.

Shawn: Gus, I'm hurt. We've had some of our best talks that way.

Gus: Last time you asked me to marry you.

Shawn: Still waiting on a response by the way.

Gus: Whatever. You don't touch anything in my car.

_Gus crosses around to drivers side. Shawn scowls and then licks each of his palms before opening the passenger side door._

**threeholepunch**

_At the convent, Lassiter is talking to a young, frightened-looking nun while the rest are speaking to the abbess._

Lassiter: So have you seen anything suspicious around here lately?

Nun: No Detective, nothing out of the ordinary.

Lassiter: (studying her) What about you _sister?_ Were you familiar with the deceased?

Nun: I never spoke to him if that's what you mean. He did come for mass every morning and that attracted a bit of attention. He always wore the most colorful outfits with large, sparkling jewelry.

Lassiter: Oh sure, the flashy bling bought with drug money always impresses ladies.

Nun: Excuse me?

Lassiter: Have you ever seen a dead body?

Vick: (calling from afar) Detective Lassiter, get over here.

Lassiter leaves the nun crossing herself.

Juliet: Sister Mary Marguerite here was just telling us about a large donation Finelli made last time he was in.

Sister MM: Normally one of his "friends" drops a few dollars into the collection box as they leave. But just last week, he was actually alone for once. He seemed to be bearing a heavy burden. He stayed for mass and then for another two hours, spent entirely in prayer. I was here when he finally left and I heard him drop something heavy into the donation box when he left. When I had finished my penance I went to look. It was a roll of money, nearly $10,000 in the donation box.

Gus: (whistles through his teeth) That's a lot of host.

Sister MM: And he hasn't been back since then.

Juliet: Do you still have the money? Maybe we can trace it…

_A crushing noise erupts from the organ and all stop talking to look at Shawn._

Shawn: Good thinking. While you and Julie Andrews check out the money, I'm going to hang out here and try to get a vibe on the room.

_All leave except Shawn and Gus_.

Shawn: Okay I'm starving, let's get out of here. Lasagna?

Gus: You haven't even looked at anything.

Shawn: What's to see? He was here days before his death. He probably knew his number was up and decided to make a latch ditch effort at the heaven thing. Nothing more to see.

Gus: (looking around) Well what about this? According to this plaque, this organ was donated by Giovanni Domingo. Isn't that the known alias of Alfredo Panacia, Finelli's biggest enemy?

Shawn: 'Alfredo'? Are you kidding me? Man I could go for some fettuccini right now. Don't they keep any food around here?

Gus: Focus, Shawn. Now why would Finelli go to a church frequented by his nemesis?

Shawn: (Discovers wafers and starts to eat them). Maybe it's a good location, close to his arms dealer? Ew, these crackers are horrible. (Spits it back out and replaces the lid on the container).

_A priest approaches._

Priest: Can I help you gentlemen? I'm Father Anthony Simpson.

Shawn: (Tries to talk but ends up coughing)

Gus: Hello father. We're working as consultants for this SBPD, this is Shawn Spencer and I'm…

Shawn: (spluttering) …my esteemed partner Ezra Goldberg-Berkowitz.

Father Simpson: I think the rest of your team is in the office.

Shawn: Of course, we'll be going then.

Gus: (looking puzzled) Hold on a minute, Father. _To Shawn:_ Don't you think we should see what this guy knows?

Shawn: huh? Oh yeah. Yes, Father, I'm divining that there is an Italian restaurant in the vicinity.

Father Simpson: You must mean Bertucci's down on 3rd St.

Shawn: I'm seeing chicken parmesan? Do they have chicken parmesan?

Simpson: Best in the neighborhood.

Shawn: Thank you for your help. (departs with Gus following).

Gus: Do you think something went down at the restaurant?

Shawn: Not yet, I do think something's going to go down. Pasta, perhaps with a nice side of breadsticks.

Gus: Shawn, I know you're not blowing off this case because you don't feel good.

Shawn: I'm feeling fine, relax. We'll just fuel up with some delicious Italian food, then right back to work. Come on buddy… tiramisu?

Gus: Tiramisu?

Shawn: With a foamy coffee thing in one of those little cups you love.

Gus: It's called a macchiato, Shawn. And you're supposed to use those little cups. (Pauses). Fine, let's go.

Shawn: That's what I'm talking about.


	2. Chapter 2

_Next scene opens in a restaurant where Shawn and Gus have a table piled high with Italian food. Each has a napkin tucked into his shirt._

Gus: Father Simpson was right, this is the best chicken parmesan I've ever tasted.

Shawn: Did you try the alfredo? I want to take a bath in that sauce.

_Shawn looks over Gus' shoulder._

Shawn: Hey Gus, isn't that that nun from earlier? Sister Tila Tequila?

Gus: You mean Sister Mary Marguerite?

Shawn: Are nuns even allowed to eat ravioli? I though mixing cheese and meat was a sin?

Gus: That's kosher, Shawn.

Shawn: Well she's definitely drinking an espresso. I _know_ that's a sin.

Gus: You're thinking of Mormons. Nuns are allowed to do all that stuff. _Pauses and reflects. _This is an awfully pricey restaurant though for someone with a vow of poverty.

_Shawn sucks in his breath and presses a finger to his temples._

Gus: I know you're not psychic, Shawn.

Shawn: What? _Looks sideways at his hand and then drops it. _No man, I just have a headache. Give me some aspirin.

Gus: I don't have any.

Shawn: You are a terrible drug dealer.

Gus: I'm a pharmaceutical sales rep, Shawn. And I don't carry medicine around with me.

_Shawn sneezes and then pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing. Gus softens._

Gus: I think I have some samples of a new cold medicine in the trunk.

Shawn: FDA approved?

Gus: Nearly.

Shawn: I'll take it.

Gus: (to passing waiter) And I'll take a another piece of Tiramisu please.

Shawn: And meatballs. To go. (Gus and waiter stare) What? I've just decided I need to keep my refrigerator stocked with this meaty goodness at all times.

Gus: And then we'll take the check when you get the chance.

Shawn: (Points to Gus, mouthing) He will.

Gus: Oh look, there's Father Simpson joining Sister Marguerite. (Waves. They both appear very embarrassed and only he waves back. Seconds later they rise and leave.)

Gus: Well that was weird.

Shawn (rubbing his eyes): What was weird?

Gus: I waved to them and they just left.

Shawn: Well what sort of wave was it? Might you have offended them?

Gus: How do you offend someone by waving?

Shawn: Ask Carly Bellhopper. She broke up with me for waving at her cousin.

Gus: She broke up with you for sleeping with her cousin.

Shawn: Oh right. (sneezes) Hey Gus do you mind if I lay down in your car for awhile? Just while you're finishing the tiramisu?

Gus: Yes, as a matter of fact, I do mind. I don't need you snotting all over my backseat. That's a company car, Shawn. You can sleep at your apartment. In your bed. Where you probably should be anyway.

Shawn: Whatever. I just need to rally. (Looks across the restaurant, his Shawn-vision focuses on the water glass left behind by Sister Marguerite. There is a lipstick mark on the glass.) Gus, do nuns wear makeup?

Gus: While it's not strictly forbidden most orders frown upon it. Why?

Shawn: I think we need to go back to that convent.

**threeholepunch**

_Shawn and Gus are waiting in a small lobby. Gus is studying the artwork while Shawn, behind him, is having a coughing fit._

Shawn: (Groaning) I feel like Gene Hackman in Heartbreakers.

Gus: I'm not going to tell you again that you should be home in bed.

Shawn: Good. Then I'm not going to have to tell you to… (sneezes).

Nun passing by: God bless you.

Shawn: Thank you. (in whispers to Gus). Dude, I just got blessed by a nun.

Gus: So? You sneezed. I've been blessing you all day.

Shawn: But by a _nun_, Gus. Shouldn't that have more weight? Should I feel different? You know what? I do. I feel holier. It kind of tingles.

Gus: Shawn… (cut off as a young woman wearing a novitiate habit).

Young Nun: Good afternoon, I'm Mary Cecilia.

Shawn: Hello. I'm psychic detective Shawn Spencer and this is my partner…

Gus: (in syrupy voice)Hello, I'm Burton Guster; but you can call me Blaze. (extends hand) It's very nice to meet you.

Mary Cecilia: Please, come in. (Leads them into an office. Shawn and Gus hang back)

Shawn: (looking at Gus in horror) Dude, she's a nun!

Gus: She's a novice, Shawn. And she is _wearing_ that habit.

Shawn: You are so going to Hell.

Gus: At least I didn't sleep with my girlfriend's cousin.

Shawn: In my defense, I invited Carly to join.

Gus: That does nothing to help your case. (looks at his watch) Look Shawn, I've got to go. I should at least be seen at work this week.

Shawn: But you are at work.

Gus: I mean my real job, Shawn. The office closes in an hour.

Shawn: Okay fine. I'll go question Miss Clavel and you can come back and pick me up afterwards.

Gus: Your apartment's less than a block from here. It'll take me longer to drive back here than for you to walk home.

Shawn: You're going to make a sick man walk?

Gus: I thought you weren't sick.

Shawn: Stop splitting hairs. No, I'm not sick. But I did have a really big lunch. If I try to walk now, I'll get a cramp.

Gus: Man up.

_Departs_

Shawn: (to himself) But I don't feel good.

_Inside the office._

Mary Cecilia: What can I do for you, Mr. Spencer?

Shawn: I have some questions pertaining to a case. I hope you can help.

Mary Cecilia: In any way I can. Please, take a seat.

Shawn: (clearing his throat). Okay, first question: Could God create a stone so heavy he himself could not lift it?

Mary Cecilia: I beg your pardon?

Shawn: (shouting) Sister Mango Margarita!

Mary Cecilia: Do you mean Mary Marguerite? What about her?

Shawn: I'm sensing she hasn't been here long.

Mary Cecilia: That is an amazing gift you have Mr. Spencer. Quite a blessing. No, Sister Marguerite has been here just under a week. She transferred from a parish in Sarasota. She has quite a long list of credentials to recommend her. We are very fortunate to have her here.

Shawn: Aren't you just? (Lifts hands to head) I'm seeing there is another newcomer. Bart, Lisa, Homer…(raises eyes to see Cecilia looking blankly at him.) Jessica and Ashlee? O.J.?

Mary Cecilia: I'm sorry I don't know what you're…

Shawn: Simpson! Father Simpson is also new to the Church isn't he?

Mary Cecilia: Oh no. Father Simpson has been here for twenty years at least. He conducted sermons when I was a child.

Shawn: And I'll bet he's always been a rather shady sort of individual.

Mary Cecilia: (indignant) Father Simpson has been the backbone of this church for as long as I can remember. He's kept us free from financial hardship, often sacrificing his own comforts. He is a good and upstanding man.

Shawn: Whoa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…(sneezes three times. Leans back in his chair with a slight moan.) I'm sorry.

Mary Cecilia: (rising) Oh dear, you're very ill aren't you?

Shawn: No, I'm fine, really (breaks into coughing)

_Mary __Cecilia rises and leaves through the back door of the office where there is a sink. There is a glass case hanging on the wall behind holding an expensive looking, Mother-of-Pearl rosary._ _Mary Cecilia brings back a glass of water, breaking Shawn's concentration._

Mary Cecilia: Here, drink this.

Shawn: (without drinking) That's a nice-looking necklace.

Mary Cecilia: It's a rosary. It was a donation from one of our parishioners. We haven't figured out where to hang it yet.

Shawn: I'm sensing it's very valuable.

Mary Cecilia: Oh no, I doubt that. I believe it's a replica of a rare piece. It is pretty though, isn't it?

Shawn: (nods) A little gaudy for my tastes, but then I'm not usually a jewelry man anyway. (receives a confused look). Well I should get going. Thanks for all your help.

Mary Cecilia: Of course. And take care of that cold.

Shawn: Will do, sis.

_He departs from the convent and pauses. The sky overhead is very overcast and the wind blows his hair. He takes a step down the sidewalk in one direction before quickly turning on his heal and heading the other way._

**Threeholepunch**

**A/N:** Don't know if anyone is enjoying reading this but I'm surely enjoying writing it. If you like it, please review. I need motivators to continue… writing an actual plot may be just outside my grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N_: So in this section I tried to do phonetical spelling for a congested person. I normally avoid it where I can because of how hard it can be to interpret. Hopefully not too much is lost.

**threeholepunch**

_Interior police station. Lassiter at his computer. Juliet standing beside him staring out the window at pouring rain._

Juliet: This totally sucks. I was supposed to go to the beach after my shift.

(Lassiter grumbles)

Juliet: A friend of mine from college is passing through and we were going to tan and then go to a club. I haven't gone out in so long.

Lassiter: Welcome to adulthood, O'Hara.

Juliet: (turns around to face him) Oh come on, adults can still have fun. Anyway, I'm still young.

Lassiter: And I'm not?

Juliet: I didn't say that. Although… when's the last time you went out. You know, clubbing? Dancing? Drinking and acting stupid all night then rolling into work hung-over? (Lassiter fixes her with a hard stare.) Okay, fine, forget I asked.

Lassiter: (leans back from his computer) I've never really been into the party scene. Not that I'm old, I just prefer the company of a good Scotch and Civil War history book to the pounding lights at the disco.

Juliet: Disco?

_Buzz McNabb enters._

McNabb: Here are the pills you asked for Detective Lassiter.

_Lassiter tries to snatch them away before Juliet can see._

Juliet: Are you alright Carlton? What's the Aleve for?

McNabb: Oh whenever it rains Detective Lassiter's knees act up. The same thing always happened to my Nana. That old lady could predict weather a week before the TV station knew a thing.

_Lassiter fixes his enraged stare on Buzz who sheepishly retreats._

_There's a crack of lightening and the power flickers in the office. When the room is lit again there is a sodden figure standing directly beside Juliet._

Lassiter: (pulling his gun) O'Hara!

_Shawn removes the hood of his jacket and pushes hair out of his face._

Shawn: Were you gudda shoot be, Lassie?

Lassiter: Spencer, what the hell? You're dripping everywhere.

Shawn: So sorry by Swib Fad impressiond isd't doig it for you. (notices Lassiter massaging his knee). Is your dee actig up? Do't worry, the storb's albost over. I dow how drivig in the raid bakes you dervous.

Lassiter: What are you talking about?

Shawn: Oh sorry, I was thickig of my gradfather. He hated drivig id the raid. Somethig about his cataracts and dot beig able to see very well.

_Lassiter fumes, growls, stalks off._

Juliet: Shawn, you look terrible.

Shawn: I dew I should't have switched hair gels. This Aussie stuff is supposed to give be volube but I just do't see it.

Juliet: I mean you look sick. And you're soaking wet. Did you walk here?

Shawn: Yeah, stupid Gus abadod be for his "real job." Ad sidce Vick still has't replied to by request for by own car… (Starts coughing very thick, painful, wincing.)

Juliet: Shawn you really need to go home. Come on, let me drive you.

Shawn: (hoarse) Doh, I'b okay. (Sinks into Lassiter's chair and starts rifling through folders) What's this?

Juliet: Oh that. Apparently Alfredo Panacia, who got a long history with Finelli is a regular at St. Catherine's, you know where the convent is.

Shawn: Oh right. I forgot to tell you guys, I saw that earlier.

Juliet: Well it seems like our best lead for now. We're giving the head's up to the undercover officer who usually tracks gang activity.

Shawn: Uddercover?

Juliet: Yeah undercover. As in, reserved for the professionals.

_Shawn's face falls and he coughs again. Juliet stares at him with pity._

Juliet: Come on. (Grabs his arm)

Shawn: What? Where are you takig' be? Do I deed to screab?

Juliet: As if you could. We need to get you out of those wet clothes.

Shawn: I thought you'd dever ask.

Juliet: Dream on. So how do you like orange?

Shawn: Dot as good as pideapple but...

Juliet: I mean the color orange. If you refuse to go home I can set you up on the couch to rest.

Shawn: Jules I'b fide. I do't deed to "rest."

Juliet: (suddenly angry) Cut the crap, Shawn. You're sick. You need to lay down, sleep and take fluids, so shut your mouth for five minutes and let me help you out. If you don't, I swear to God, I'll drive you home in a squad car right now and have you fit with a tracking anklet that's got a range of fifteen feet.

_Long pause._

Shawn: Well that cabe out of dowhere. Are you alright Juliet?

Juliet:I just... I don't like seeing you like this, okay? I'm sorry I yelled.

Shawn: It's okay. _Pause_ There's just one thing.

Juliet: What?

Shawn: Why did you ask me if I like the color orange?

**Threeholepunch**

Sorry taht this is such a short chapter but the next is already well on its way to being finished, I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Alright. Let's try some drama, jealousy, and intrigue. Hopefully I haven't disrupted the balance too thoroughly.

**threehol****epunch**

_New scene, Lassiter is passing by the conference room leafing through paperwork. __He stops short and backs up to stare through window. His face lights up and he grins._

Lassiter: It happened. It finally happened.

McNab: What happened?

Lassiter: In all my dreaming, I never thought this day would come. I wonder who got to do it? Rodriguez maybe, he's always been a good cop.

McNab: Who did what?

Lassiter: And what were the charges? I mean, it's not as though there's a shortage of opportunity. Constant wasting of department resources... that's theft really. And I'm pretty sure he bugged my phone last week.

McNab: Detective Lassiter what are you talking about?

Lassiter: Justice, McNab. That's what I'm talking about.

_Lassiter indicates through the conference room window where Shawn is sprawled out on the couch, wearing an orange jumpsuit._

McNab: (nervously) Sir, Shawn hasn't been arrested.

Lassiter: What?

McNab: Yeah, he just needed some dry clothes to wear. And Chief Vick told him he could nap on the couch until the rain stopped. We gave him some of your Aleve. I hope that's okay...

Lassiter: Go.

McNab: I'm sorry, sir?

Lassiter: Go now.

_Buzz flees, passing Gus who is just coming into the station._

Gus: Juliet called. Where is he?

_Lassiter points and Gus grumbles under his breath._

Gus: I'm not trying to be his baby-sitter. I _do_ have a job. A real job. Where I get paid every week.

_Vick enters._

Vick: Ah Mr. Guster, you're here. Good, I can tell you both at once. Finelli's body has been discovered. It washed up on the beach an hour ago. Forensics is having him relayed to the lab as we speak.

Gus: So we're too late?

Lassiter: It's worse than that Guster. If Panacia's men are the ones behind this, then we could have a full gang war on our hands.

_Juliet approaches._

Juliet: And that's not all. We lost communication with our field agent six hours ago.

Vick: Do we think his cover was blown?

Juliet: Either that or he's in too deep to respond. When we last talked to him, Finelli's men weren't suspecting anything.

Juliet: I tried calling Jessica to go under, but she's not answering.

Vick: She's out this week. I think she has the flu.

Lassiter: (to Gus) Jessica is another old undercover agent. She used to work that beat before Wilson.

Gus: I know who Jessica is. Who do you think got Shawn sick?

_Juliet looks stricken but no one seems to notice._

Lassiter: I can go. I know Finelli's men in and out.

Vick: And most of them know you. Lassiter you've really got to stop the drive-by visits to people you've arrested.

Lassiter: Just keeping them in line, Chief.

Juliet: I'll go. I've still got a good cover with the call-girl agency Finelli used.

Vick: Good. You can go get briefed with Wilson's old case files. Mr. Guster, if you could please wake Mr. Spencer. Any psychic vibrations would come in really handy about now.

Juliet: No.

_Everyone turns to stare._

Juliet: I mean, I think we've got a handle on this one. We don't need him.

Lassiter: Do we ever?

Vick: Fine. O'Hara, just go get ready, Detective Lassiter will drop you off. Mr. Guster, you can take Mr. Spencer home when he wakes up.

**threeholepunch**

_Later in the conference room Gus is sitting on a chair, inches from Shawn's face, staring intently. Shawn is still asleep and oblivious, he pulls a sports coat tightly around himself and rol__ls over. After a moment he opens his eyes and jumps when he sees Gus staring._

Shawn: Dude, you can't get that close to a sleeping man. I could have roundhouse kicked you in the face.

Gus: You were fast asleep.

Shawn: I was in a deep meditative state. My Qi needed a tune up.

Gus: You were snoring. And talking... something about Carrie and Mr. Big?

Shawn: Clearly I was referring to Kerry Collins, first draft for the Tennessee Titans in 1995. Mr. Big was his nickname.

Gus: No, it wasn't Shawn.

Shawn: Well it should have been. Have you seen that guy? 6'5", 250 pounds.

Gus: How do you know all that?

Shawn: I found an Old Sports illustrated in someone's desk.

Gus: Is that where you found that jacket?

Shawn: Plus cold medicine. Honestly, Gus, you should try looting more. You come up with some great stuff.

_While Shawn talks, Gus is staring intently at the coat._

Gus: Shawn, this is a Canali.

Shawn: Is that anything like a cannoli? Because I could definitely eat again.

Gus: It's a clothing brand. This coat is worth over two thousand dollars. How can a cop afford a two thousand dollar sports jacket?

Shawn: Well I know one thing, I'm definitely asking for a raise.

Gus: We aren't even on salary, Shawn.

Shawn: Fine then, we need to get on salary. Where is Vick?

Gus: Probably tailing Juliet. She went undercover as an escort to Finelli's men.

Shawn: Doesn't Wilson usually do that?

Gus: He hasn't been answering his phone or checking in. They're worried his cover's been blown.

_Shawn jumps from the couch and rushes to the door, a look of complete panic of his face._

Gus: What's wrong?

Shawn: He hasn't been uncovered, he's been compromised. He flipped on us, Gus. They must be paying him off.

Gus: How do you know that?

Shawn: It's Wilson's coat.

**threeholepunch**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I hope the mystery makes sense. I've always been pretty bad at plots.

**Threeholepunch**

_Exterior, a van is parked outside a warehouse. Lassiter, Chief Vick, and a tech are crowded into it listening intently to a microphone feed when Shawn and Gus burst through the back door._

Lassiter: Spencer, what the hell?

Shawn: Wilson's flipped. He's gone rogue. They've probably been paying him for awhile to keep activity quiet. I'm sensing he recently decided to make the change permanent.

Lassiter: He's been working this beat for almost two years. Why would he turn now?

Shawn: Well, he's probably gotten a taste for the finer things in life. I mean, come on, you guys won't even spring for a brand name soda machine in the break room. I have to drink Borq's Root Beer.

Gus: But you know ColaCola is actually kind of good.

Shawn: It doesn't suck.

Vick: Mr. Spencer these are very serious accusations you're making. Have you got _anything_ to back this up?

Gus: Wilson has a Canali sports jacket at his desk.

Lassiter: Like the dessert?

Gus: Am I the only man here with style?

Lassiter: (pondering) You know Chief, last week I ran into Wilson at the shooting range and he was carrying a brand new Sig Sauer. That's a pretty expensive weapon. (getting excited) He even let me hold it. It was light as a feather, and the grip on that thing…

Vick: Carlton!

Lassiter: Sorry Chief.

Shawn: Why are we still talking? We need to get Juliet out of there.

Tech: (grabbing the microphone) Detective, we believe the mission may have been compromised. You need to calmly and coolly, exit the scene.

_Camera pans out and moves to interior room where Juliet is bound to a chair. A thug with a gun is holding her earpiece while the tech's voice echoes through it._

**Threeholepunch**

_Twenty minutes later. Still inside the van._

Gus: Why isn't she responding?

Lassiter: Is her microphone still on?

Tech: Yes sir.

Vick: Could she be in trouble?

Lassiter: Let me go in there, Chief. I can get her out.

Vick: Calm down Carlton. We have SWAT on standby.

_Vick pauses and looks around._

Vick: Where's Spencer?

_Interior room again. Overweight Italian man is pointing his gun at Juliet. He sweats and seems very nervous while he questions her._

Thug: Where's Mr. Finelli?

Juliet: I told you, I don't know. I'm investigating his disappearance.

Thug: How do I know you all ain't got him?

Juliet: If we already had him, why would I be here?

Thug: Well, I don't know nothing about that.

Juliet: I believe you. Why don't you put the gun down and come with me. You can give your statement at the station.

Thug: You want me to go to the police station?

Juliet: Just to give your statement.

Thug: Yeah right. And then you'll let me go. Do I look like some kind of idiot? (ponders) No. Better just to deal with this now.

_He positions his gun when the sound of a thundering sneeze explodes behind him._ _He turns 90 degrees to see Shawn emerging, holding both his hands in a surrendering gesture._

Shawn: Sorry man. I guess the cold medicine is wearing off. Six hours of relief my ass. But then, that's what you get when you go for the store brand instead of the good stuff.

Thug: Are you a cop?

Shawn: Hell no. Even better. I'm a psychic.

Thug: I don't believe in psychics.

Shawn: You know, every time you say that, an angel loses its wings. Whoa…

_Shawn lifts a hand to his head, apparently dizzy. He stumbles a bit to his side. The action seems unintentional but is executed so that the hitman is turned all the way around, back to Juliet._

Shawn: Again, my apologies. I've been a bit under the weather this week. Don't get too close, you don't want to catch this.

Thug: Are you kidding me right now?

_Lassiter appears, pressing a gun into the hitman's back. _

Lassiter: Actually, he's not.

_Other SWAT members enter the room to secure it while Gus goes to untie Juliet. Shawn leans back onto a box, trembling slightly and coughing heavily._

Gus: Are you okay?

Juliet: Yeah, I think so. (To Lassiter) Wilson turned on us. He left town yesterday.

Lassiter: Yeah, that's what we figured. (Passes thug over to uniforms who remove him)

Juliet: Looks like we're going to get your statement either way.

_A crashing noise comes from the back corner of the room as Shawn slides to the floor, still coughing. With fear in her eyes, Juliet rushes over. _

Juliet: Shawn?

Shawn: (mumbling) Jules, man, you really scared us.

Juliet: You were worried?

Shawn: (Through coughing) Not me. I'm Joe Camel cool. Lassiter, though, he actually piddled himself.

_Vision of Juliet through Shawn eyes blurs slightly. Her voice becomes echoey as he slowly loses consciousness._

Juliet: Shawn? Shawn? (To others) He's burning up. Help me lift him…

**Threeholepunch**

_Interior, Henry's house. Shawn is waking up on the couch with his father, Gus, Juliet, and Lassiter standing around. Vick is on the phone standing behind them._

Shawn: Scarecrow? Tidbad?

Juliet: (holding a thermometer) Come on Shawn. Let me check your temperature.

Shawn: Dorothy? Where are we?

Juliet: We had to bring you somewhere Shawn. You were out cold.

Henry: Here I was, enjoying a beer and the fishing network. Starlo Starling was just about to reel in what might have been the best catch of his entire career, when in plows Gus and Lassiter, dragging my half-dead son between them. I never got to finish my show.

Shawn: (Sitting up and blowing his nose) I'b fide Dad, thaks for askig. Why did't you guys brig be to by owd house?

Juliet: We tried. Apparently it's changed back into a dry cleaner.

Lassiter: The owner wasn't too happy with us bringing you there. And she made some pretty derogatory comments about the crease in my slacks. If it were up to me, we would have just left you on her front step…

Shawn: The drycleader? I have't lived there id weeks. Gus, I told you that.

Gus: You never told me, Shawn.

Shawn: I gave you a spare key.

Gus: You didn't.

Shawn: (lost in thought) Who did I give by spare to? (snaps his fingers) Julio.

Gus: The guy who sells sno-cones in front of the Psych office?

Shawn: He seebed trustworthy.

Gus: I can't believe you gave your spare key to a street vendor and didn't even tell me that you'd moved.

Shawn: Gus, do't be this used Kleedex. I totally beadt to tell you.

_Gus crosses his arms and sulks. Vick gets off the phone and joins the group._

Vick: Okay, well if Mr. Spencer is settled here, we can head back to the station. I just got off the phone with McNab. According to Mr. Rosetta's statement, they have no idea who killed Finelli.

Lassiter: Did they find anything helpful at the warehouse?

Vick: Oddly enough, rosaries. Crates and crates of identical black glass rosaries.

Juliet: Could they have been valuable?

Vick: They all seemed to be replicas.

Gus: That makes sense if they were black glass. Antique rosaries were made with real jet and were quite valuable. They also featured carved bone skulls to symbolize mortality. Something like that would be worth millions.

_Shawn sneezes._

All: Bless you.

_Shawn jumps to his feet, swaying slightly._

Shawn: Yes! Yes, I've got it! I dow what happed to Fiddeli. I cad't believe I didn't see it before.

Lassiter: Can you understand a word he's saying?

Shawns: It's the dud. She's beed behide it the whole tibe. I bead, I guess she's dot really a dud.

Lassiter: What? A dud?

Shawn: Dud!

Lassiter: Dud?

Everyone: Nun!

Lassiter: Oh!

Shawn: Fidelli was forgi'g crucifixes. Bary Barguerite was helpig hib fide buyers.

_Everyone looks puzzled. _

Gus: He said, Finelli was forging crucifixes and that the woman posing as Sister Mary Marguerite was helping him to find buyers.

Lassiter: She's a dealer?

Shawn: I think they prefer "pharbaceutical sales rep".

Gus: He means an art dealer, Shawn.

Shawn: Oh. Adyway, at sobe poidt, baybe after lookig' at so bady crucifixes, Fidelli started to feel guilty. He decided to turd his life aroud. He started givig away his bodey and possessionds.

Juliet: Like the original crucifix.

Shawn: Exactly.

Lassiter: So she kidnapped him to find out what he was doing with all the valuables.

Gus: And then, when she figured it out, she posed a nun to get closer to it.

Henry: So she broke into a convent. Well if that's not a fast track to you-know-where I don't know what is.

_Shawn ponders for a moment. Flashback to Mary Cecilia saying "__He's kept us free from financial hardship, often sacrificing his own comforts."_

Shawn: She had idside help. Father Sibpsod. He probably cabe up with her cover story.

Juliet: A priest?

Shawn: The church deeded the bodey. This recessiod has beed hard od everybody.

Gus: I know that's right.

Vick: I've heard enough. Detective Lassiter, you and O'Hara go bring those two in for questioning. (To Shawn) Good work Mr. Spencer. Now I don't want to see you around the station for at least a week.

Shawn: Do argubets here, Chief.

_Vick, Juliet, and Lassiter exit. Shawn gropes around for a moment before finding a tissue and sneezing messily and dramatically into it._

Gus: Bless you.

_Shawn sighs and shakes his head._

Gus: What's wrong?

Shawn: It's just dot the sabe whed you say it. Maybe you should try crossig yourself first.

Gus: Good bye Shawn.

Shawn: At least buttod your collar all the way up. (To Henry) How about you? Feelig sahctified?

**Threeholepunch**

A/N: Working on a VERY fluffy ending. Fear not schmoop-lovers.


	6. Chapter 6

_Interior Psych office. Shawn is lounging on the couch, surrounded by crumpled tissue. There is a knock on the door and Juliet comes in_.

**threeholepunch**

Shawn: Jules. What are you doing here?

Juliet: I came by to see how you were feeling. Why aren't you at your apartment?

Shawn: I got locked out.

Juliet: What about Julio?

Shawn: Apparently the sno-cone cart has wheels.

Juliet: You don't say.

Shawn: Julio wheeled off into the sunset. Never to be seen again.

Juliet: Maybe you should have given Gus the spare.

Shawn: That's what he said when I asked if I could sleep on his sofa.

Juliet: Ouch. Well, are you doing any better anyway?

Shawn: Actually yeah. Turns out there was merit to the whole "resting" thing after all. I'm ready to go back to work right now.

_Shawn starts coughing and Juliet pours him glass of water._

Juliet: You don't actually work there, Shawn.

Shawn: That hurts Jules.

Juliet: You're right. I'm sorry. And I'm glad you're feeling better. You must be at the tail end of this. Jessica came back to work yesterday.

Shawn: Who's Jessica?

Juliet: You know, the other detective who works undercover a lot?

Shawn: Oh right. Man, that girl had be tailing her boyfriend all across town last week.

Juliet: Oh?

Shawn: Yeah, and the guy wasn't even cheating. He was disappearing to shop for engagement rings. Complete waste of time. Did you bring me soup, Jules?

_Juliet is flustered but looks down to the parcel she's brought with her._

Juliet: It's sweet and sour from the Chinese place around the corner. I would've cooked but…

Shawn: I love that place.

Juliet: I know.

_She moves over to give him the soup and Shawn starts coughing again. When he finishes he blows his nose noisily. When he's done Juliet reaches up to feel his forehead. Their eyes meet and she slowly lowers her hand._

Juliet: I… I think your fever has gone down.

Shawn: Jules, I need to tell you something. Do you remember yesterday when we found you. I told you I was Joe Camel cool and Lassie was terrified?

Juliet: He didn't actually piddle himself, did he?

Shawn: No, he did. Like a Pekinese puppy during a thunderstorm. But I… wasn't totally cool. Not Joe Camel cool, not even Danny Zuko cool. Definitely not Fonzi cool…

Juliet: Shawn?

Shawn: The thing is Jules, I was worried. I didn't want anything to happen to you. I _don't_ want anything to happen to you… I want ... Dammit, if only it weren't for Gus.

Juliet: What does Gus have to do with anything?

Shawn: Well you see. I already extended my hand towards him. Now, I could take it back, but I'm pretty sure Emily Post has some pretty strict rules about retracting a proposal

_Juliet cocks her head and reaches behind Shawn lift a bottle of cough syrup from the end table._

Juliet: Shawn, how much of this did you take?

Shawn: What? Oh, just the recommended dose. With a Nyquil chaser. But Jules, I'm trying to tell you something here.

_Juliet shakes her head and presses a finger to his lips._

Juliet: Tell me later.

Shawn: But…

Juliet: Get some rest. Sleep it off. I'll call in the morning and, if you still want to, you can tell me then.

Shawn: I'll still want to.

Juliet: I'm sure you will. Get well soon, Shawn.

_As she moves to leave Shawn sneezes._

Juliet: Bless you.

Shawn: Thank you.

_Shawn stares at his hands for a moment and then runs his hands over his arms as he watches her leave._

**Threeholepunch**

**END**

Thanks everyone for the reviews you've written. And thanks in advance if you're planning on writing one. Watch PSYCH, it's a great show.


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